


University of Oa

by hero_of_derp



Category: Green Lantern: The Animated Series
Genre: College AU, F/M, It's confusing, It's kind of an AU as in it happens after the series but it could also be alongside it, just read it plz, kind of, soul mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:33:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2235873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hero_of_derp/pseuds/hero_of_derp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Razer is a student of Oa University, there on a scholarship. He sticks to himself, mostly, and does what he can to stay busy. He studies, works, and plays in a band... and doesn't think of much else until a chance meeting with another student, Aya, that seems so familiar...</p>
            </blockquote>





	University of Oa

_A hand cupped the beginning of the universe and time itself, floating in nothingness, promising a million billion outcomes. Things that could be, things that would be, and things that would never see existence._

_He had to stop it, and he was the only one that could - but he couldn't._

_The red dagger disappeared as he neared her, and the figure in front of him turned, fired, called out his name._

_"Razer! **No!** "_

_Pain ripped through him as the energy hit him square in the chest, and he fell back, floating. The world was going so dark..._

And then, suddenly, the world was full of light and buzzing.

Razer opened his eyes and saw his ceiling, blurry. He rubbed his eyes and left his hands over his eyes. He moved one hand off his eyes and slammed it over his alarm clock, turning it off. Razer sat up and rubbed the rest of the sleep from his eyes, yawning once. He moved out of bed, an easy thing to do since his mattress rested on the floor, and left his bed a mess. No sense in making his bed when he was just going to mess it up again that night. 

The apartment was small, one room that combined the bedroom, living room, and kitchen-dining. The bathroom was a separate room, and that was where Razer went now. He started the shower and pulled off the clothes he'd slept in, pants and a long sleeved shirt and, of course, his underwear. The shower was hot and it woke him up some, but it was the cool blast at the end that finished the job. He stepped out of the shower and dried off quickly, cleaning the mirror off so he could look at his reflection.

Razer was from Volkreg, a small nation several thousand miles away tucked away on the edges of the middle east. Life in Volkreg was hard, made harder by the constant miniature wars fought inside it's borders. Rich warlords used the cities and farmlands and small towns as their battlefields, fighting their petty, pointless battles while their people struggled and starved. Of course every few years there was a small lull as they re-strategized, but the country was broken enough that no other countries wanted to get involved, due to different political allegiances that countries had to different warlords. Most seemed satisfied to wait it out for the moment, to see who would emerge victorious in the end.

While small groups came to Volkreg to try to help rebuild and help teach them people, while others implored the warlords to cease their battles, while others wrote petitions, while their reasons were noble, Volkreg was unlikely to listen to outsiders. Often, many Volkregs would refuse aid beyond help for clean water and, in dire straights, food. They were a proud people, on the edge of being xenophobic, self contained and self supportive. A Volkreg's kin was not only his family but his neighbors as well, and they helped each other out, often knowing each other from birth onward. Food was less of an issue when neighboring streets of people would all have small gardens in their backyard, and possibly animals, and they would trade their excess with each other.

For a nation with so little, Volkreg shared what it had.

Like others from Volkreg, Razer had pale skin, blue eyes, and white hair. He even had the tattoos that were put on Volkreg children that had come of age, traditionally. Racial diversity was few and far between at home, and even then, most half Volkregs still looked like their parent from their mother land. 

With his face washed, Razer quickly picked up his eyeliner pen and drew around his eyes with obvious skill. He found it odd, sometimes, that outside Volkreg people seemed confused, sometimes disturbed, sometimes aroused, at men wearing make up. To him, eyeliner was as normal to him as breathing. Back home it helped with the glare of the sun.

Satisfied at his eyes, Razer put his eyeliner pen away and stepped back into the main room of his apartment. He went to his closet and pulled out clothes for the day. Underwear, jeans, socks, shirt. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, glanced at the time, and promptly cursed.

"Damn it I'm -late-!"

He stuffed his phone and wallet into his pockets and went for the door, grabbing his messenger bag full of his school supplies and his bass tucked away in it's case on the way. He paused outside the door just long enough to lock it, before heading downstairs in a rush.

The neighborhood he lived in was cheap and, as a side effect, fairly run down and what many would consider dangerous. However, to someone from Volkreg, it was business as usual, and he didn't have much fear walking down the street. As it was, most people didn't want to mess with him. Perhaps they thought he was some relative of a crazy warlord back home, who would come after them mafia style if he was hurt. Or maybe they just thought he would snap.

The truth was far from it. Although he did had a temper that flared, he kept it down with meditation and channeled it into working. At home in Volkreg, it was usually in the family garden. Here, it was schoolwork and music. He'd played the bass in Volkreg, and joined Rage, a local band with two other college students. They played gigs now and then, and got some cash, though technically as far as the school and his visa knew Razer didn't get any of it. He did, however, get 'gifts' from his friends.

He stopped at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn green, when his phone rang. He answered, and pulled the phone away from his ear when he heard yelling on the other side.

"Where the fuck are you?! We're waiting!" Zilius screeched loud enough for passerbyes to look at Razer. Razer put the phone back to his ear when Zilius calmed, and he heard Atrocitus in the background tuning his guitar. "We have to practice, or don't you understand that?"

"I understand that fine," Razer said, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry I'll be there. I just slept late is all."

"Are you having those idiotic nightmares again?" Zilius snorted. "Just get here!" He hung up, and Razer looked at the phone before dialing back. Zilius answered after two rings, angry. "What?!"

"Fuck you too I'll be there in ten minutes." Razer heard Atrocitus laughing in the background before he hand up, and Zilius was fit to be tied, starting to yell obscenities. 

The crosswalk sign turned green, and he stepped across the white stripes on the pavement. His long legs made it easy to walk fast without hurrying, and he moved around people walking up and down the street. Volkreg was much more crowded than this in the markets, and navigating in this was child's play. He stopped by a small food stand and got some breakfast, eating it as he walked the rest of the way.

Oa University's campus was surrounded by a warm, red brick and black iron fence, laced with ivy climbing up the sides and gates. It was a functional, inviting university, with benches and tables and trees dotting the lawns, providing students and guests places to study, relax, and chat. Large buildings dotted the many, many acres of the college, classrooms and offices, labs and libraries. He made his way toward the dorms that were on campus, and shortly saw his band mates in a small courtyard outside.

There were two figures sitting there. One male was larger, built thick and solid with a slight belly, and his head was shaved. The other was tanned, and his short hair was dyed bright red, with an undercut.

"LATE!" Zilius called when he saw Razer, sitting on the bench at a picnic table. Atrocitus was on the table itself, feet on the seat of the bench. He was strumming a few notes on his guitar, and he looked up when Razer got closer. 

"Give it," Atrocitus said, setting his guitar aside, in it's case laying on the table. Razer handed his bass over, and Atrocitus pulled it out. He gave it a strum, then began to tune it, carefully. "We got a gig week after next." He looked up at Razer. "So we have to get our set list and start practicing. After school work for you?"

"Yeah, that works. I just have a couple classes today so we can meet up tonight." Razer put his hands in his hoodie pockets. "Here or somewhere else?"

"Here works for now. We can practice later in the garage." Atrocitus looked up at Razer. "We'll just be working on the set list tonight anyway. Pizza?"

"Sounds good to me-" Razer started.

"And breadsticks, fuck yeah!" Zilius finished, and grinned. "Guess where the show is going to be?"

"Tell me." Razer sat down, dropping his bag on the brick under them. He crossed his arms on the table, and raised a brow when Zilius told him.

"The Shard." Zilius kept on grinning. It was a medium sized club and bar, often visited by college students. It was popular enough, with it's wide range of cheap drinks and mixers, cheap but decent bar food, and live music on a regular basis which, apparently, could include them now.

"Quite a step up from the garage." Razer watched Atrocitus tune the base, strumming it once, then twice. "Sound good?"

"Sounds good." Atrocitus played a few short chords. "You take good care of it."

"Of course." Razer shook his head. "Just because I got it at a thrift store doesn't mean I can't keep it awhile. Since we're going to practice later, I'll just leave it with you two. Then I don't have to carry it around all day." He wrinkled his nose.

"Fine," Zilius said, sounding as if he'd taken on a huge burden. While abrasive on the outside, Zilius wasn't all bad. Just mostly a bastard. But there had been a few times when xenophobia or casual racism caused someone to talk bad about Razer behind his back, telling him to go back to his country, and Razer had seen Zilius give them a good, solid punch.

In the end, no one spoke badly about the band, or Razer, without suffering Zilius' short temper.

Zilius and Atrocitus were difficult at times, but so was Razer. The three of them constantly butted heads, but in the end they could always shrug it off and sit back to drink a beer or something. 

They sat and talked for a short while, until Razer checked his phone for the time, and stood up immediately. "I'm -late-! I'll see you both later." He gathered his back quickly, pulling it over his shoulder. "Professor Ganthet dislikes it when we are late to class." He ran off before either of the two could speak, and it wasn't until a few minutes later that Zilius looked at Atrocitus, and smirked.

"Isn't it Tuesday? He doesn't have Ganthet until Wednesday."

\----

When Razer opened the door, he was slightly out of breath. The fact that the door was closed meant that class had already started, and he would come in and face...no one.

There was no one in the room.

Well, that wasn't quite right. Ganthet was at his desk at the front of the classroom, speaking to someone, a young woman. In the same moment they turned, and Ganthet called out to him, Razer realized that his class was tomorrow, and not today.

"Razer! What an unexpected surprise. Come here, meet another student of mine." Ganthet waved Razer over, and stood. He was a short man, old, his hair grey and thin in spots. He'd been a teacher of history for years now, generally well liked and even trusted among students.

Razer warily made his way down the steps of the lecture hall. "Professor. I... thought that we had class today, but I was mistaken. I apologize if I've interrupted anything-"

"Oh not at all boy. Razer, this is Aya Scarr, another student of mine. And a young woman that I have known for most of her life." Ganthet laughed and reached out, patting the young woman's arm.

She was petite, under the few layers she wore, and her hair was short and white. Dyed, if Razer had to guess. That hair color didn't usually occur in someone so young. She was cute, by normal standards, but Razer didn't pay much attention to her, other than her eyes.

Her eyes were a shade of green he'd never seen before, and yet they seemed so familiar. Innocent and bright, untarnished by the world. A work of possibilities and infinite chances for the future laid in those eyes, and for a moment he didn't realize she was speaking. He'd gotten lost, just for a brief eternity.

"Razer, it's a pleasure to meet you." She extended her hand, and he took it to shake. "You're from Volkreg, aren't you? You don't see many outside your country."

Razer withdrew his hand politely. "Yes. I am on a... scholarship." He felt incredibly awkward suddenly. How could he not be? He'd already embarrassed himself, coming to the classroom on a day that he didn't have class. And then to interupt his teacher talking to another student, and one he obviously thought of fondly.

"From the Wayne Foundation, yes." Aya nodded, and smiled slightly when Razer looked confused. "My mother is on the board for this school. I know about many things that go on in it, including scholarships. You must have impressive credentials to pass their exams."

"Oh young Razer is a smart one, there's no doubt of that." Ganthet sat back down. "Though his grade in history is slacking, his numbers in mathematics soar."

"...It's a history I am not familiar with. You have grown up with these dates and times. I have not." Razer straightened, slightly, voice tense. He wasn't used to dealing with people one on one, except of course for his band mates, who he could tell to fuck off, and the people he communicated with about his scholarship, who were authority figures and it was easy to nod and report to them.

It was far more difficult to casually speak with a respected professor and another one of his students.

"That does make sense. Math, meanwhile, is always the same, isn't it." Aya nodded.

"Yes," was all Razer could say. He stared at them, then cleared his throat. "... Excuse me then, I should be going."

"Of course. I will see you tomorrow, Razer," Ganthet said, with much amusement.

"It was a pleasure meeting you. Perhaps I'll see you around again." Aya nodded, and Razer nodded in return, before taking his leave. 

As soon as he was out the door, Razer covered his face with his hands, face slightly red. He scrubbed at his face a moment before starting off down the hall. At least now he was free to study for a bit longer.


End file.
